A familiar face
by NerdInABlueBox
Summary: After seven years, John Winchester is resurrected.


His eyes flickered open, something was wrong. He didn't feel any pain either, that meant that something was definitely wrong. He sat up, but how could he? John Winchester was alive, but how? He stood up, but collapsed immediately afterwards, he hadn't stood up for so long. "How can I be alive?" wondered John, "much less, have a body?" Then he thought that he was a ghost, but had no idea how he could be. He walked into a tree just to be sure. Now his head was bleeding, for he had just walked into a tree. He was definitely alive, and definitely had a physical being, but how? He knew for a fact that his boys would have burned his corpse, so he shouldn't be alive, but what other explanation could there be? He wasn't in too deep wilderness, because he could see a road in the distance. He started walking towards it.

* * *

 _5 hours earlier_

Crowley had decided, he needed the Winchester boys in turmoil. He needed them distracted enough so that he could get his plans finished without them screwing his stuff up more so than they already have. An hour earlier, he had already captured Castiel, for he needed a close and powerful ally of the Winchesters, and whom better than the "great and almighty Cas!?" He had also needed a Angel's blood for the ritual. What he was about to do was terrible, not for the rest of the world, but for Crowley. This was his last resort. He needed the boys shaken. He had tried everything else, including the monkeys possessed by demons, but they still made it past that without a scratch. Even though he was the King of Hell, he still needed a complicated ritual to destroy all the bonds that encased the father of Crowley's greatest enemies, and this required WAY too much preparation, but if he was lucky, then it should be worth it. The ingredients followed:

The skull of a prehistoric salamander

The tongue of a sloth

A gallon of the blood of an angel

Cupid's arrow

Blood of family

Blood of family's friend

Incantation read aloud

The ingredients sure were odd, very odd in fact. He had never seen any other spell like it, but he had to do it. He figured he could get the angel blood and blood of family's friend both done in one try with Castiel captured and all. It didn't take too long to get the ingredients, after all, he sure did have an army of demons in hand. He hadn't drained Castiel yet, but he was about to. He opened up the cell that encased Castiel, who was already "beaten up," as they say. He let some of his close acquaintances bid on doing their best on the angel, it had gone up all the way to 100 souls in fact! Castiel hung from chains, obviously in some pain. He looked up.

"Crowley" croaked Castiel.

"Oh, well hello" replied the King of Hell.

"Just tell me what you want, I am sure that none of this is necessary."

"Oh, not necessary, but fun. I just need some blood of yours, no big deal" Crowley held out an angel blade, and crept towards the Angel.

"You are making a mistake-" but it was too late. Crowley ripped open Castiel's shirt, and slashed. At first, it was just a line, but then the blood started dripping down. Cas moaned, but couldn't do anything about it. The handcuffs were preventing him from using his powers. He couldn't teleport nor heal himself. Crowley looked at his work, and thought, "If I am to get a gallon of blood, then I will need a bit more than just a little scratch." He slashed three more times with the Angel blade, white sparks emerged when ever he did, and to finish off, he did one of the wrists. Castiel was writhing, and yelled in pain. He held a bucket to the Angel's stomach, and a smaller jar to his wrist. The Angel bled, and bled, until finally, Crowley had enough to fulfill his little spell.

"Well Cas, that was fun, come again if you like!" He undid Castiel's handcuffs, because fair is fair. He left the little cell, and tended to his ritual/spell.

Castiel had collapsed to the ground, moaning. He tried to heal himself, but wasn't strong enough to heal completely. The bleeding had partially stopped, so he used all of his remaining power to teleport out.

Dean was just coming back to the base from a supply run. He had gotten some chips, redbulls, beers, fruit (ick), a pie(thank god), and some other essential material. Near the entrance, Cas appeared right in front of him. He jumped and shrieked like a little girl. He then grunted and straightened his jacket.

"Cas, you almost made me drop my pie!" Then Dean noticed the blood. "Are you okay?!"

Cas struggled to a partial standing position. "Not really." He then stumbled and collapsed. Dean tried to catch him, but forgot that he still had groceries in hand. He dropped them and went for the door.

As the door opened, Dean quickly yelled, "Sammy! Get your ass up here right now! Emergency!"

Dean ran back to Castiel's side to make sure he was still alive. He was, for he was breathing. He attempted to drag the Angel closer to the entrance to the base. He was only able to get him three or four feet closer until Sam came bursting out.

"What happened?" then he looked down. "Oh gosh!" He went to Dean's side and started to help Dean. They got Castiel into a spare room, and dropped him on the bed. You can't really do first aid for an Angel, so they made do with some bandages and placed them around the gashes. They left and hoped for the best.

"He'll be fine" reassured Sam to Dean.

"Well I sure hope so." Dean checked on him every half hour or so, until finally, Cas came to.

Dean walked into the room. Castiel was sitting up, wincing every inch or so.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" asked Dean

"Yes."

"Alright then." Dean walked over and helped Cas up.

"Who did this to you?" asked Dean.

"Crowley, he needed a gallon of my blood for a spell."

"What spell?"

"I believe it is a spell to bring a soul back into the world when there isn't a body left for it."

"Why your blood?"

"Well I brought you back didn't I? I am guessing that it needs that part of heaven to counteract the spell, but he had your blood too."

A bad feeling washed over Dean.

"Cas, rest up, we need you not dead, so, I guess, get to you healing. Sam and I will figure out who Crowley would want back alive."

"But-"

"Just do it." cut in Dean.

Castiel leaned back into the bed. Dean wondered who the hell (see what I did there? :) ) Crowley would need back. He went back into the main room, where Sam was sitting. He explained what Cas had told him.

"If he needed our blood, then that means that we would know them, or be related to them. Dean, this is not good at all."

"You're telling me, I don't see a good ending to any of this.

* * *

Back to present

John had found his way to a telephone booth. He had walked over 10 miles to the nearest town. He was tired, out of breath, out of shape, and was very thirsty. He dialed Sam's number.

"I'm sorry, but this number is no longer in service." went the automated voice.

"How long have I been gone?" wondered John. He then dialed Dean's number, but the same message played. He tried Bobby's but still, no reply. He then tried his own number, and finally got an answer.

* * *

Castiel walks into the room, around an hour earlier. He still winces every step or two, but he seems better than he was before.

"Cas, what are you doing? You should be in bed!" protests Dean.

"There has been a near Kirwin. I think I should go take a look, before any of the other Angels go, I have a feeling it has to do with that ritual Crowley did."

"No, Cas, we will go, we can get there pretty quickly, I don't like the idea of this spell Crowley did, and we should go see first."

"But Dean-"

"End of conversation Cas, now go heal up, we might need you."

"Okay, but if you get in any trouble-"

"We will call or pray to you or whatever."

"Fine."

Sam and Dean drove to Kirwin, which was actually really close, so could get there quickly. Before they left, they made sure that they had enough of an arsenal in the trunk. After about 20 minutes of driving, a call came from the left compartment of the car.

"Dean, that's dad's cell."

"Oh, I hope it's not another unknown brother. Gimme the phone."

Sam didn't, but instead put it on speaker. He spoke to the phone.

"Who is this?"

Back in the phone booth, the call had gone through. John was glad that it had. A voice came from the other end. It was Sam's.

"Who is this?" demanded his son.

"Uh, hello? It's me, John, your dad." said John.

There was silence from the other end.

Now Dean was on.

"Okay, you tell me who this is, not funny."

"I'm not lying, I don't know how or why, or-"

On the other end, Dean took the phone and hung up.

"Okay Sammy, that is not possible."

"I agree but-"

"No buts Sam, that is not dad."

"You heard Cas, you know what he said."  
"Dad sacrificed himself for me, and sold his soul, now he's dead, and we burned him. We burned him Sammy, there is no way he can be alive."  
"But Cas said the spell brought back people who didn't have bodies left to come back to, AND our blood was needed!"

"I don't care, Cas was wrong. End of conversation."

The phone rang again.

"Don't you dare pick that up Sammy, don't you-"

"But what if it is?"

"It isn't."

"You came back didn't you?"

"That's different."  
"How?"  
"That was months, It's been years, Sam, YEARS!"

"Lets just check it out. We at least need to know WHAT he is if he isn't real."

Dean was going to interject, but decided not to.

"Fine. Pick it up."

Sam answered it, and put it on speaker.

"Location, what is your location."

John was relieved, maybe they believed that it was really him, and that was good.

"Near Kirwin, around a gas station called 'fast stop.'"  
"Ok."

Sam hung up.

"Sam, this is a very bad idea."

"Yes I heard you Dean."

They arrived soon after. They located the place immediately, then parked two blocks away from the agreed meeting place. Sam and Dean got out of the Impala, then straight to the trunk. Dean opened it, and propped up the compartment. They grabbed everything they could because their so called "dad" could be anything. A demon, ghost, shape-shifter, leviathan, you name it. They both had holy water, Sam had the demon-killing knife, Dean took hold of an Angel Blade, they grabbed an iron rod, a water bottle filled with bleach, and an extra silver knife, just to be sure. After concealing all of the weapons, they started towards the gas station.

* * *

It took only five minutes for them to get to the station, but they circled it to make sure that it wasn't a trap. They saw a figure standing behind the station, so they sneakily came to the front.

"This is it Sam, let's see who, or what, this is." says Dean. They rush to the back coming upon the figure. It indeed was a man, who looked just like their father.

"Whoa!" exclaims John. Dean pins his father to the back of the station.

"Sam! Use the Holy Water!"

Sam sprays the water at his father, but there is no reaction. Just to make sure, Sam slices one arm with the demon blade just to make sure that this man who looks like their father isn't a demon. immediately afterwards, Dean squirts the bleach at him, then another cut from the Angel Blade, then the silver knife, placed on his skin, and to finish off, making sure the iron didn't have any effect. Dean faced his father.

"Ok, what the hell are you?"

"It's me, you have tested for every monster you know, and frankly, I think you two are going crazy, because bleach doesn't do anything I any monster I know of, but you surely have your reasons. You know, that it is me, really me." It was then that Dean was holding back tears.

"It can't be-"

"Dean" said Sam, "I think it is him. Remember what Cas said about Crowley's spell bringing someone back that doesn't have a body left to come back to?"

"Ya, and I can't think of any other explanation." Their father was standing by, quietly listening to their conversation. He had no idea who "Cas" or "Crowley" was, but at this point, he didn't care. After years upon years of non-stop hell, John embraced the two of them without any further question, but they quickly pulled away, all slightly embarrassed, for they haven't done one of those in a long, long time. Dean and Sam pulled away at the same time, and exchanged a meaningful look.

"We should get back to the car, because to be honest, there is a reason you are back here, and it isn't a good one."

* * *

Back at the Impala, Dean and Sam go to either side of the front, and John looked at the two of them.

"You aren't going to make me sit in the back, are you?" asked John.

"Afraid so." replied Dean.

"Jesus Christ, how long have I been gone?"

"A very, very long time."

All three of them get into the Impala and start driving away from the small Kansas town.

After 10 miles or so, after a very long silence, John speaks up.

"So how long, exactly, have I been gone?"

"Too long." replies Sam.

"But in months, or years, telling by your faces."

"I dunno, 6, maybe 7 years, I really don't know."

Seven years John thought, seven years in hell.


End file.
